


Private Lessons

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Cliche, Guns, M/M, Motivational Techniques, Shooting Range, Teaching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-08
Updated: 2012-02-08
Packaged: 2017-10-30 19:55:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/335478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan gives Cutter a somewhat unorthodox shooting lesson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Private Lessons

  
“Excuse me, Professor Cutter, have you got a minute?”

“Yes, what is it?”

“I have a proposition to put to you.”

“Oh?”

“You need some weapons training,” Ryan said bluntly. “We’re in an incredibly dangerous situation here, and you need to be able to defend yourself.”

“I don’t do guns.” The reply was flat, and not inviting of debate.

“I realise you’re not a fan,” Ryan continued patiently. “And I’m not suggesting you start shooting creatures left and right, but one day you’ll be grateful that you have even a basic knowledge of firearms.” He paused. “Hart agrees with me.”

Cutter’s eyes narrowed. “Have you two been planning this behind my back?” he asked suspiciously.

“No. He’s just worried about you, that’s all.”

“Did he also mention that he’s been trying to get me on a shooting range for the last five years? He hasn’t succeeded yet.”

“He did tell me that, yes,” Ryan conceded. “But you haven’t had dinosaurs trying to eat you for the past five years. I’d say the situation’s changed a little, wouldn’t you?” The soldier could be stubborn too, and his own tone of voice was signalling that there was no use arguing about this.

“Fine.” Cutter gave in with ill grace. “When?”

“Tomorrow morning. 9am. Don’t be late.”

*   *   *   *   *

Ryan tutted as he looked at his watch. It was 8:58, and Cutter was perilously close to _being_ late. No doubt it was some form of defiance, an expression of displeasure at being forced into this.

At 9am precisely, Cutter arrived. His eyes held a hint of challenge, as if daring Ryan to find fault with his exact punctuality. But Ryan had dealt with plenty of bolshie recruits in his time, and therefore his expression remained serene. A flash of disappointment flickered across Cutter’s face.

“Good to see you, professor,” said Ryan cheerfully. “Well, no sense in beating around the bush – let’s get started.”

It quickly became clear that, not only did Cutter not have any knowledge of firearms, he was also _extremely_ nervous of them. Ryan had given him a handgun – he didn’t intend to let him anywhere near anything more powerful than that. The purpose of this training was so that the professor could defend himself in an emergency, not take a place on the front line.

But even his attempts with the pistol weren’t proving terribly successful. He’d yet to hit the target Ryan had set up, and the soldier could see him flinching every time the gun went off.

“You need to relax,” he admonished. “The tension in your body is throwing your aim off.”

“Well, of course I’m bloody tense, man!” Cutter retorted. “I’m holding something that’s capable of killing someone. Tense doesn’t even begin to cover it!”

“You need to stop fighting against it,” continued Ryan. “Think of the gun as an extension of your arm. Treat it with respect. Don’t try and hurry things. You need to be calm and steady.”

“Yes, because I’m going to be incredibly calm and steady when a ten ton dinosaur is lumbering towards me intent on biting my head off,” Cutter muttered.

Ryan’s lips twitched. Christ, the professor could be a stubborn git sometimes. He was about as flexible as a steel girder. And truth be told, it was one of the things Ryan liked about him. He respected people who knew their own minds. Even if in this case that had resulted in the professor getting knocked on his arse once or twice.

But that stubbornness wasn’t getting them very far now. Cutter needed to learn this, no matter what he said. It could save his life one day.

“Just trust me on this, professor,” said Ryan firmly. “You need to _relax_.”

He moved smoothly up behind Cutter, intent on adjusting the man’s stance slightly, hoping that if he felt like Ryan was there to steady him he might not be so apprehensive.

But when he put his hands on Cutter’s hips to turn him slightly, he heard Cutter inhale sharply, and the man became even _more_ tense, if that were possible.

Puzzled, Ryan lifted his hands away and paused for a second. Then he shrugged it off and tried to manoeuvre Cutter’s body again.

There. Cutter had definitely tried to twitch away from him. What was going on? Why didn’t he want Ryan touching him?

Then the answer came to him, clear as day. Ryan’s lips curled upwards into a smile. So _that_ was why Cutter was so tense. It was nothing to do with the guns. Or at least, not _all_ to do with the guns.

Ryan’s smile widened. Maybe there was a way in here. It couldn’t hurt to try, in any case.

Not letting Cutter resist or wriggle away this time, Ryan placed himself behind the other man, putting his own body in the correct stance and then moulding Cutter against him. They were pressed so closely together that Ryan could feel Cutter’s heart thundering in his chest, and the rise and fall of his erratic breathing.

Lining his right arm up with Cutter’s, he covered the professor’s hand with his own, firming his grip on the gun as he raised both their arms together.

“Relax,” he murmured again in Cutter’s ear. “Just squeeze the trigger gently, and the let the gun do the rest of the work.”

Half a second before the gun went off, he felt Cutter tense again. Unsurprisingly, the shot went wide of the target. This called for desperate measures.

“It’s okay,” Ryan said. “Don’t worry. We’ll try again.” As he spoke he slid his left hand off Cutter’s hip and round his body.

Cutter yelped and tried to jump away from him when Ryan’s hand settled on his crotch, but the soldier held him firm. He smirked as he realised that Cutter’s cock was a lot less nervous about things than the rest of him. He squeezed gently to regain Cutter’s attention.

“You need to time your breathing better,” he muttered. “Slow and deep. In and out. In…out…in…out…in…out…”

He flexed his hand against Cutter again in time to his words, and was gratified to hear Cutter’s breathing slow and deepen. He’d been right. The professor needed something to take his focus away from his nerves. His attention was still on the gun, he was still listening to Ryan, but he _wasn’t_ thinking about what would happen when he fired.

Ryan raised their arms again. “In…out…in…out… Take a deep breath, let it out slowly…squeeze the trigger…”

Cutter fired. And this time a small hole appeared in the paper target hanging at the end of the firing range. It wasn’t within the marked circles, but that didn’t matter.

“Good,” said Ryan. “Much better.” He waited for a response, but all he got was the continuation of Cutter’s deep breathing as Ryan kept massaging him through his trousers.

Time for the next step. With practiced ease he popped the button on Cutter’s jeans and slid the zip down. Cutter gasped when he felt Ryan’s hand close around him, and the soldier instantly stilled, until he felt the professor relax against him once more.

Slowly, he started moving again, stroking his palm along silky soft skin, matching the cadence of his voice to the rhythm of his hand when he spoke again.

“Let’s give this another go,” Ryan said quietly. “Only this time you’re going to fire several times. Any creature you have to shoot at is unlikely to be stopped by one bullet. Now, remember what I said. Steady breathing, in and out. Take your time…”

He raised Cutter’s arm and the gun once again, his other hand continuing to lazily stroke Cutter’s cock in time to the man’s breathing. He had to say that this was working out better than he could have expected. He’d taken a gamble with this approach, but in the professor’s case it appeared to be paying off. He just needed to realise that it wasn’t all about the gun.

“In…out…in…out…squeeze gently on the trigger…”

Cutter fired, five times in quick succession. And this time all the bullet holes were within the circular target on the paper. None of them were on the bulls-eye, but the results were good enough for Ryan.

“ _Very_ good,” he murmured. “In fact, I think you deserve a reward.”

Abruptly, he tightened his grip on Cutter’s cock, swiping a thumb across the head to gather the drops of precum leaking from it. Cutter’s hips jerked, and he gasped as his attention suddenly refocused itself.

Dragging his hand along Cutter’s length almost roughly, at odds to his gentle movements of moments before, it only took Ryan a few short strokes before Cutter was cursing loudly as he came, the hand still holding the gun loosening its grip enough that Ryan had to catch it before it clattered to the floor.

He smiled and gave the professor a few seconds to collect himself, before pulling his hand away and unceremoniously wiping it on the front of Cutter’s jeans.

“Right, ready to have another go?”


End file.
